Godric's Hollow 103181
by Unknown Marauder
Summary: A Harry Potter fanfic about the night Lily and James were murdered by Voldemort aka HeWhoMustNotBeNamed, YouKnowWho, The Dark Lord, or just palin Voldy. [Discontinued, as now we all know exactly what happened]
1. All Hallows Eve

Godric's Hollow – 10/31/81 

The sun set on Godric's Hollow as it did on any other day. Except this was Halloween, the night in which ghosts and ghouls haunted the imagination of the young trick-or-treaters who now scurried back home to their parents. And it was safest, to be sure. For tonight, the stories that had been around for a good year were most feared. No, these were not the tales that were told 'round the campfire at the Cub Scout meetings, or the old wives tales that mothers told their children so they wouldn't get out of bed. No, this was for real.

The Potter family had moved into the neighborhood at just about the time these stories had uprooted themselves and took flight, sending a desperate warning to Godric's Hollow's citizens. Many people tried avoiding the Potters; rumors said they were strange people, not quite normal. Now, the son and the wife were fairly normal. But the father, he was different.

Many people had said he talked funny, about something called Kwidditch, or what not. He also seemed a bit too flighty, causing a few neighbors to think he might have been an ex-criminal, driven insane by prison life and, with the way he constantly looked around, many thought he believed the police were still looking for him. The poor bloke, as many people seemed to say, had a terrible habit of stopping in the middle of the street when a car was coming. One man, who claimed to have helped Mr. Potter out of the road, had said "The man's eyes had grown very wide in nature, reminding me of a deer caught in the headlights of a car."

Thus, the tales began. Many parents warned the children to stay clear of the Potter house, no matter how inviting and normal it seemed. But, children will only be that way once, and many of them would ignore their parents on nights like this and visit the Potters. None of them really knew anything about the life they lived. Lily seemed to always have a tray of fresh cookies waiting, James could give you one of the most accurate sports commentaries in all of Britain, and the baby Harry, well, he was cute. He had an adorable patch of brown fuzz on his head, which would soon be hair, and his big, round, green eyes stared at you like an owl watching a mouse.

The sun finally hid itself behind the horizon, giving off a faint glow as a promise that tomorrow it would return. But, the night only brought with it worries in residence of the Potters. The large, white house with the matching picket fence and neatly trimmed lawn seemed as safe of a haven as possible, it was also the most watched house in all of Britain. Every Wizarding bigwig and member of the Order of the Phoenix was protecting this house for all they were worth. For inside this perfectly normal house, was possibly the most extraordinary boy wizarding kind had ever, and will ever know.

Lily Potter stood in the doorway of the place she called home and shook her head, bouncing her infant son, which lay nearly sleeping in her arms. "Where is he?" she asked no one in particular and walked back inside, setting baby Harry on the window seat where he could suck on his fist without having the worries of his mother passed to his tiny mind.

She began to pace the foyer nervously. James knew the rule; be home before sundown. She had made it VERY clear that he be on time tonight and look what happened. He was late, again! Lily buried her head in her hands as she took a seat on the edge of wooden stair rail. She lifted her head in time to hear the doorbell ring.

" Dada!" Harry giggled reaching up towards his mother, who quickly headed towards then door. "Dada home!"

Lily laughed softly at her son's comments, as she opened the door no more than a crack. "Hello? Who's there?" She expected to see a bunch of trick-or-treaters looking up at her expectantly with their brightly coloured masks. Instead a stag was standing on her porch. Letting out a breath of air, which she was holding, Lily could have sworn she felt a drop of sweat glide halfway down her forehead. "James…"

The stag let out a soft, well, laugh and after a couple minutes James Potter stood on the doorstep, holding a bunch of roses. "Yes, Lils?"

"What would you name Harry if he was a girl?"

"Why are we doing this question thingy again?"

"Because I need to know if you're a Death Eater in disguise or not!"

"Oh all right! I'd call him Celeste. Partially because it's a nice name and partially because when he as born, I was in the mood for pizza." James sighed, looking back at his wife and rolling his eyes. "There, satisfied?"

Lily laughed and opened the door for her husband. "You're late again, dear. You know you can't do that."  
"Dada!" Harry giggled, reaching up towards his father, his red jumper making him look like an oversized Quaffle. "Dada home!"

James pick up his miniature clone of a son and hugged him tightly. "How has the little Pronglett been? Have you been a good little tyke?" Harry gurgled in happiness and began to try and smooth out his father's hair, not aware of who was standing right at the edge of village…


	2. Monster Mash

Godric's Hollow – 10/31/81 

At the end of the road that the Potter residence was located on, a tall, dark figure loomed, his shadow settling to the side as he leaned against a lamppost. The black robes this person wore hidall features, as his head was bowed just enough so that no light could reach his face. Beside him stood another person, also clad completely in black, but the bone white mask, which covered that second person's face shone in the lamplight. A strange sight to be sure, for neither of the two could be under twenty, making them a little too old to be trick-or-treating.

The leaning one stood up, tilting his face up slightly as he turned to face the person who stood beside him. This sudden turning swept the hood of his robe backwards, showing his face. It was a man, no mistake about that, but how much of him was human was the question. From a quick glance, this man seemed like your everyday citizen, dark hair neatly cut and his face beginning to wrinkle with age. But, there was only one problem with this seemingly normal human being. The man's face was pale, as if sunlight had not touched it in eons, and his eyes were red, like an angry serpent's. Despite these minor distortions, he was only a man, one who, as it seemed, had been quite handsome in his younger days, although his looks had been worn away with age and madness.

"Malfoy," the man spoke, a snake-like lisp tainting his almost perfect English Accent. "You remember the plan, do you not?"

"I do, milord," the second man, Malfoy, said as he kneeled on the black asphalt that covered to road. "I distract, you attack." The man stifled a chuckle. One of the first jokes he made in over a month. The first man didn't find it as funny and immediately kicked his accomplice in the shin with a black, leather-booted foot.

"This is no time for jokes," The man sneered, turning to look down the road, scanning the rooftops of houses where Muggles were sheltered. The thought of laughing families and happiness made him cringe. He HATED happiness. " The Potter boy will soon be dead. The Prophecy will soon be irrelevant, and I will continue my reign of terror over the Wizarding world. Not even old Bumblebee will stand a chance against me."

Hopping up and down on one foot in the middle of the road, holding his injured leg, the hood on Malfoy's cape slid off, revealing long blonde hair, tied up in the back with a black ribbon. "Oi, that hurt!" he whined, but stopped immediately as the meaning of his partner's words. "Milord, are you planning on taking on the greatest wizard of all time…."

"Fool!" the first man shouted, his voice harsh and booming. Just the trick to intimidate those lesser than you. "I am the greatest wizard of all time! After this, all shall fear me!"

"But, milord…" Malfoy started, cut of by his master's sudden disappearance. "Were the bloody hell…"

"But nothing, young Lucius!" the first man said sharply appearing further down the road, pride in his voice. "Tomorrow morning, the name of Lord Voldemort will be known throughout the WORLD because of tonight!" Voldemort pulled up the hood of his black robes over his dark coloured hair and began to walk down the street, whistling a small tune, progressing slowly towards the Potter residence, leaving Lucius Malfoy under the streetlight.

Lucius looked at the nearest hose, a tan rancher with a quaint little wrap-around porch. Lights shone brightly from the inside, mixed with the faint lyrics of one of his favorite childhood songs, the Monster Mash. He sighed, and reached inside a hidden pocket of his robes, drawing his wand.

"Well, he wanted a distraction…" Lucius muttered as he walked towards the house. As he reached the door, he hesitated. Was this REALLY the right thing to do? He shook his head. Now was not the time for second thoughts. If this went over right, Voldemort would be very pleased. But, if he went in and just killed them, wouldn't that be slightly, well, rude?

Lucius shrugged. "Whatever buys us time is good with me." With a small swish and flick, a tiny spout of fire emitted from the wand and created a giant torch from a neatly trimmed begonia bush. He smirked and turned his back on the house, which was slowly being engulfed by the flames. "Happy Halloween, Muggles."

The Roger's house was full of merriment as the annual Halloween Party continued on throughout the night in full swing. Families would gather here every year, pretty much a Godric's Hollow tradition. Adults sat and chatted, teenagers flirted, and children sang and danced to the Halloween classic that blared over the radio.

I was working in the lab late one night  
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight… 

A small girl, no more than seven, peered tugged at her mother's skirt, her face a mask of confusion and curiosity. "Mommy, why is the flowers on fire?"

The mother, no older than thirty, gave her daughter a look of confusion. "Stacie, what are you talking about?" She stood up from the easy chair she was in and walked to the windowsill, gasping at what she saw. Outside, the Asian Begonia, which she had cherished and raised from seed, had been engulfed in hungry flames that had begun to spread, licking the exterior of the house.

She let out a scream of horror and began shooing people out of the room, not daring to explain why. "It will scare the little ones," she told one of the adults whom she confided most in.

As the last of the guests were ushered out of the living room, the end table upon which the still playing radio sat burst into flames.

They played the Mash

They played the Monster Mash

The Monster Mash

It was a Graveyard Smash…


	3. Not Here For Candy

Godric's Hollow – 10/31/81 

Voldemort silently walked down the lane, his eyes downcast, watching the pavement that his feet tread upon with each step. The streetlight that he stood under only a few seconds before had begun to fade away into the dark, moonlight now his only guide.

The night had gotten oddly silent, as he had departed for the Potter house. Even the crickets had stopped their chatter as he passed each house, foreshadowing doom with every step he took.

He chuckled, his horcrux collection would soon be complete, and he would get his revenge. Kill two birds with one stone as that fool Malfoy would say. Voldemort shook his head. Lucius was young, and with youth there is insolence, bravery, and foolishness. Malfoy wasn't the brightest candle in the chandelier.

_But what of my other followers_, Voldemort thought, stopping abruptly in the center of the street, looking up at the sky, watching stars wink at him from the inky blackness that blanketed the cool, October night. Astronomy was never his favorite subject as a boy, but it had helped him in the past. So, he took this time to study the heavens.

_Mars is bright tonight_, Voldemort mused. _And the North Star seems a little dull_. What had Professor Haireu told him about that? The Dark Lord shrugged. _Meh, it's not THAT important now. And besides, _he thought off-handedly,_ it would probably mean I get my ass kicked by an infant in the near future. _ With that comment, and a small, lighthearted chuckle, Voldemort continued towards the Potter residence, malice in his smile.

"…And then I got sidetracked by this lovely set of Jack-o-lanterns in the neighbor's yard, so I went and commented them on craftsmanship and…"

Lily sighed. "You were having an office party, weren't you? You were having fun and forgot the time. Again."

James nodded, slightly embarrassed that his excuse had been foiled in front of his son, who sat inside a Styrofoam pumpkin, peering out the window for trick-or-treaters that might run up the driveway any minute. "Twick or Tweat! Twick or Tweat!" Baby Harry giggled, face pressed against the window, Pumpkin balanced on one edge.

"Harry! Careful!" Lily warned sternly, moving the pumpkin closer to the window so her son could press his face to the glass pane safely. She turned back to James and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "You missed most of the trick-or-treating. James, I thought I made it clear that while we were living here under protection we had to abide by the rules. I don't want you setting a bad example for Harry. He's cursed enough by Sirius's frequent visits. Besides, I had already prepared and fed Harry when you came. You PROMISED not to miss another meal."

James raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember saying anything like that, Lily. And besides, you know damn well I can't always be on time…"

"James! Watch your language in front of Harry!"

"…Sorry, but you know me and rules. I believe they are made to be broken, and by George, I will raise my son that way too! After all, I don't think that everyone's gone home…"James's sentence trailed off as Harry let out a loud squeak.

"Dada! Twick or Tweat! Twick or Tweat!" Harry exclaimed pointing out the window. He giggled happily and tipped the pumpkin over so he landed in the candy bowl.

James smiled and kissed his wife on the cheek. "See, Lils, didn't I tell you!"

Lily picked Harry up and began to burp him. "I checked, like, five minutes ago, dear. The street was deserted."

James peeked out the window, gasping at the flaring inferno that was the Rodger's house. As if it came from hell itself, the fire raged, casting an eerie light about the street, illuminating the dark figure walking towards the house. If it wasn't enough of a nightmarish scene already, the glow of green light that emitted from the Dark Mark shining overtop of the orange flames made everything pulse as if covered in radioactive slime.

"Lily dear…" James gulped, closing the curtains. "I don't remember, do we have any really tall kids in this neighborhood."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I don't think this bloke's here for candy."


	4. The First Avada

Godric's Hollow – 10/31/81 

Lily gasped and clutched Harry to her chest, causing him to cry out for air. She loosened her grip, but only a little. "Do you mean…. it's…. it's him?"

James nodded his head solemnly. "I want you to get Harry and yourself somewhere safe. Apparate, if need be."

"But," Lily protested. She was not going to let her husband, the man she loved, get killed while she ran. "What about you?"

"I said get yourself and Harry out of here!" James shouted, tears welling up in his eyes. "I don't want to look down from Heaven once I get there and see either of you coming to join me, Lily." James pulled his wife into a passionate hug. "Just stay safe."

Lily Potter looked into her husband's eyes, searching for a different answer, but there was none and, having accepted that, she nodded as tears began streaming down her face like twin waterfalls. Harry, who had semi sorta been forgotten in this emotional bit, began to cry, for it was now getting harder to breath being squished between his parents and he wanted his bottle.

It was that extremely inappropriate time that the door burst open with a crash, breaking a vase that Lily was quite fond of, bringing the small, happy family back to the realization that the end was, unfortunately, near.

Voldemort opened the gate unceremoniously, letting it hit the fence hard. It seemed more than kind to give them a small warning. After all, did THEY give him any warning before barging in and defeating him any one of those three times? No, they certainly didn't! He thought he was being over polite.

The dew had begun to set on the grass making it wet and slippery. Voldemort tripped slightly on the damp edge of his cloak, making him swear violently under his breath. This was no time to be clumsy. One mistake tonight, and he could wind up in the London Morgue tomorrow morning. After all, that Auror and his mudblood wife had bested him before, what says they won't best him again tonight?

Voldemort cracked a sinister smile. _I say they won't_, he thought, pulling his bone-handled wand from a pocket inside his cloak. _For once, I shall have the upper hand!_ He approached the white, wooden door and pointed his wand at the door before thinking otherwise and stepping back. What fun would it be to just open the door quietly with magic?

With an evil smirk, he stepped back a few more steps and ran forward at full speed, smiling yet wincing in pain as he herd the door break and swing inward, slamming into the wall. The sound of shattering porcelain rang wonderfully in his ears.

"Why hello. Happy Halloween James, Lily, and Baby Harry…" Voldemort's sentence trailed off as he looked at the infant Harry James Potter, nestled in his loving mother's arms.

"Lily, get out of here," James said softly but firmly as he picked his wand off of the end table, his eyes focused on Voldemort.

"Why have them leave so soon?' Voldemort asked, his tone mocking, as he flicked his wand and blasted a hole in the floor in front of the kitchen. That was the only escape rout, unless you counted the stairs, which were close to the door. Or at least what was left of the door. "After all, I've _just_ arrived, have I not?"

"What do you want?" Lily cried out, fear building up inside her. There was no way to escape, and the only place where she could apparate here and there in was Harry's nursery. Upstairs. She had a right to be scared.

"I want Harry. Just give me the boy, and you two shall go unharmed. What do you say, James?" Voldemort asked, a smirk developing on his pale, evil face. This was his chance, he could kill the one who the prophecy spoke of, and he would become immortal! Just one more horcrux…

"Over my dead body!" James Potter shouted, pointing his Maple wand at the Dark Lord. "Now get out of here!"

"That's not very nice," Voldemort said in a mock hurt voice. "And all I did was come here to have a civilized conversation."

"Civilized conversation my ass!" James bellowed. "Now, I shall only say this one…more…time. GET OUT!"

Voldemort sneered. "You're a fool, both of you," he said harshly, looking from James to Lily, then to Harry, who looked at him with an expression of fear and disgust. _The little twerp_, he thought, _we'll see who'll pull through on top._

"Lily, run, while you still have the chance!" James shouted to his wife, who was practically frozen in fear. Voldemort was here, and he wanted her son, and he wasn't going to kill _them_? What was _wrong_ with this picture?

"Give the child, Lily, and you and your husband will be spared."

"No, don't Lily, just run!"

Voldemort rolled his eyes; this was getting him absolutely nowhere. "I gave you a chance to save yourselves and you passed it up, James. I have no choice."

"Bring it on," James said, a determined smirk on his face. With an unexpected burst of energy, James Potter ran, knocking the Dark Lord backwards as his shoulder hit Voldemort square in the chest. "Lily!" he shouted," The Nursery!"

Lily nodded and ran, taking the steps two at a time, hurrying to get to safety. James tried following, but his ankle was grabbed by Voldemort's long, pale fingers, keeping him from safety.

"Let go!" James muttered loudly, kicking Voldemort in the stomach. The Dark Lord's arm shot back and he gripped his stomach.

_Dammit_, Voldemort thought, picking himself up to watch James Potter bolt up the stairs. With a deep breath, the dark wizard scrambled up the steps as fast as his aching stomach would let him.

As he reached the top, He pointed his wand at James, who was keeping watch from the Nursery door. _Fool! _Voldemort scowled, raising his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted. An elementary spell, he knew, but it did the job. Hoisting his prey from his feet, James floated helplessly towards Voldemort. Although, James was wise enough to try and grab a few passing doorways, he found himself floating in front to the Dark Lord in a matter of seconds.

"Goodnight, Potter," Voldemort said, a sinister smile on his face as he raised the bone-handled wand to James's forehead. James winced as the wood prodded his flesh.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

James was hit with the bright green light, but not before one, love filled cry escaped his lips. "Lily!"


	5. Through Lily

Godric's Hollow – 10/31/81 

Lily Potter stood with her back to her door, tucking Harry in. He had fallen asleep despite the terrors that took place only a few yards away. She smiled at her son, pulling his blankie up to his chin.

_It'll be chilly tonight_, she thought, _If he survives, I want him to stay warm._

Outside the room she herd her husband's frantic footsteps as he ran up the stairs out of Voldemort's grasp. She let out a sigh of relief, her husband was safe, that was almost all that mattered.

He rushed inside the nursery and hugged her tightly.

"I thought you and Harry might not have made it…" his voice was a hurried whisper, if not softer, but Lily could hear James's voice breaking as he began to cry. Whether they were cheers of relief, joy, or if he knew the most possible outcome of the night, she could not be sure, but to have him here, close to her, for a moment, she wished time could stop right then and let the three of them live inside this little bubble defying time and fate.

But she knew it could not be so, and she knew that when he let go of her and kissed her on the forehead that this would almost certainly be their final moment together, alive.

James quickly whipped away the tears that were streaming down his face and looked at his sleeping son. Harry looked so peaceful sleeping, all bundled up in his Snitch-decorated blanket, oblivious to the world around him that was slowly falling apart, and painfully dissolving away, like a fizzing tablet in luke-warm water.

His right hand gripping his wand so tightly, his knuckles began to turn white, he poked his head outside the Nursery door, keeping watch. Lily could do nothing but stand at the foot of her precious son's crib and watch. Before she could even give her beloved a word of caution, Voldemort let out a shout, and, using an elementary spell that she had learned in her first year, James was levitated out the door.

_James! _Lily thought, hands clenching into fists of rage towards the dark Wizard who had a hold of her husband, tears streaming down her face as if each eye was an extremely leaky sink. _James! No! Please, don't die!_

As if sensing Lily's discomfort, Harry woke up, a frightened expression on his chubby face, and began to also cry silent tears.

_Oh, Harry, _Lily thought, picking her son up and hugging him tightly. _If only you knew, your tears would be full of rage and sorrow more so than mine could ever be. _There was no doubt about it in Lily's mind; James was as good as dead.

The next few events seemed to move in slow motion for Lily, although it only took a matter of seconds for the sequence to be completed. Voldemort's cruel voice said something, the Avada Kedavra shouted, Lily ran towards the door, and closed it, thinking it would keep the Dark Lord out; Harry began to cry, Lily rushed towards the crib to grab a bottle, James shouting out her name with his final breath, a flash of green light, the door bursting open…

"Hello again, Lily."


	6. The True Snape

Godric's Hollow – 10/31/81 

Voldemort set his eyes on Lily Potter, who stood with her back to him and, seeing as her arms were wrapped around something in front of her, she was holding Harry. Could she have made his job any easier? Probably not.

"I didn't have to kill him, Lily. If only you two had just cooperated…" Voldemort's voice was as smooth as melted chocolate, but menace was behind every syllable that left his mouth. His tone had a forced affection to it. "There's still a chance for your life to continue."

"And why would I want that?" Lily spat, setting Harry down inside his crib, where he grabbed his favorite teddy and hugged it tightly for comfort. She turned around d to face Voldemort, the remnants of her tears gleaming in the light from Harry's bedside lamp. "You've taken my husband from me, and you're about to take my son. My life will have no purpose."

Voldemort smirked evilly. "Lily, Lily, Lily. So bold, I shouldn't have expected anything less from you, of course. But I have an offer for you."

Lily raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "What type of offer?"

Voldemort smirked inwardly. "The whole story should be known first, my dear. It begins with a young man you should remember named Severus Snape…"

Severus Snape pounded on the door of the large shack which the Dark Lord Voldemort lived with his snake. He wasn't afraid; Severus had heard the talk around the camp. Voldemort was going to attack the Potter house one week from today, Halloween. He heard a hissing from below and saw the Dark lord's pet snake coming out from underneath the door. Snape took a step back and drew a sharp breath, his eyes wide. It was no secret, he was scared of snakes, and Nagini almost scared the living daylights out of him.

"Who is it?" Voldemort's harsh voice penetrated the cold, crisp, Late-October air, sending chills down Snape's spine.

"It's me, m'lord, Severus Snape," Snape's voice was shaky with nervousness. _What have I gotten myself into?_ He thought as the door creaked open. "Come in."

Snape gulped and entered the house, dust coming up from the floor in clouds as he walked across, spider webs in every corner, potion ingredients in jars full of odd-colored liquids, possibly for preserving said potion ingredients. All in all, the place was an absolute mess. As Snape looked around he saw Voldemort hunched over a table, staring at a piece of parchment

"My lord," Snape said, coughing at the vast amount of dust in the air. "I need to discuss something with you."

"Can't it wait until the next Death Eater meeting, Severus? I am exceptionally busy at the moment," Voldemort's voice was raspy; it sounded like he hadn't slept in three days.

"But, m'lord," Snape said, sneezing. _It's too dusty in here_, Snape thought as he made his way to the Dark Lord. "It's about the attack on the Potters."

Voldemort looked up from the parchment, an eyebrow raised at his Underling's statement. "How did you know I was to attack them?"

"Pettigrew," Snape said simply, grabbing a chair and dusting off the cobwebs so he could sit down. "He's told about half of the Death Eaters in Brittan, the filthy rat."

Voldemort scowled, looking back at the parchment. "He'll learn to keep his mouth shut." There was a long, awkward silence between the two men before Voldemort looked up at Snape, who was staring at the floor looking almost as if he had just murdered his best friend. "Well… you came to tell me something?"

Snape snapped out of his trance-like state and nodded. "Actually, it's more of a request. I want you to spare Lily Evans, I mean, Potter." Voldemort looked like he was about to laugh.

"Spare that mudblood? An interesting joke, to be sure," Voldemort smirked, looking back to the parchment. "I have no time for hilarities. Be on your way." Snape didn't move.

"My lord, I'm serious. I want you to spare her," Snape said, his voice level. Voldemort looked up at him, face expressionless.

"You're growing soft, Severus?" Voldemort asked, his voice as cold as Antarctic ice. "You have feelings for this MUDBLOOD!" Snape looked to the ground in time to see Nagini slithering up his leg. He drew in a sharp breath and nodded slowly.

"She was my only friend while I was attending Hogwarts. She wasn't even my friend to be honest, but she was the only one that ever stood up for me. I feel it's the least that I should do." Voldemort glared at his underling in disgust. He snatched his bone-handled wand from its spot at the top of the parchment and pointed it at Snape. He gave it a quick flick and watched as his minion shrieked in pain and doubled over, almost falling to the floor.

"You're pathetic," Voldemort sneered, looking down his nose at Snape, who was beginning to recover from the curse. "You love her, how sweet. It's not sweet, it's_ disgusting!_ And you call yourself a true pureblood." Snape opened his mouth to correct the Dark Lord, to tell him he was a half-blood, but held his tongue and stared guiltily at the floor. Voldemort walked around the table and knelt down so he was level to Severus.

"Look, Severus," Voldemort said, his voice calm and understanding, but it still had the menacing snake-like lisp. "I know what you're going through, but I do not intend to let any of the Potters survive!" at the end, Voldemort's voice returned to a harsh, cruel scowl. "Now get out of here, before I make you an example of what happens when someone gets on my bad side."

Snape glared at Voldemort as he stood up, grabbing Nagini behind the head. He made sure his footing was stable before he threw poor Nagini across the room, hearing her hit the wall on the opposite side of the shack before turning to head out the door. Unfortunately, in a burst of rage at the cruelty directed to his familiar, pointed his wand at the back of the retreating Severus Snape.

"Crucio!"

Severus fell to the floor, partially on the dusty floorboards, partially in the mud outside the door. As he writhed in incomparable pain, Voldemort glared down his nose at his half-blooded underling. "Severus, how many times have I told you not to take your rage out on my pet snake? Are you really going to stoop as low as animal torture?"

"Promise me you'll at least_ try_!" Snape said, trying not to let the Dark Lord hear the pain that the curse was causing him in his voice. "Just try! Please, Tom, _Please_!"

Voldemort was taken aback. None of his Underlings had ever dared call him by the name he had gotten from his filthy, Muggle father, given to him by his pathetic excuse for a witch mother. "And why should I?" Voldemort asked icily. "Of what use would she be?"

"She is a very talented witch, My Lord," Snape said quickly, not giving Voldemort time to change his mind. Severus told the truth, for Lily Evans was a very gifted witch, with excellent grades in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts; you name it, she was a professional at it. "She's very powerful, too, despite her lack of wizard blood."

"QUIET!" Voldemort shouted, causing Snape to recoil in fear, his muddy face showing signs of sheer terror. "If she is as powerful as you say, she may actually be of use to our cause."

"But, My Lord, the Death Eaters do not allow Muggle-born witches or wizards into their ranks..."

"I can make an exception in this case. Now go, Severus, before I change my mind about this Mudblood's life!" Voldemort commanded as Snape picked himself up off of the floor and ran, right into a tree, before getting his bearings and following the path on which he arrived by.

Lily looked at the man who had just killed her husband, confusion on her face. "Severus Snape _begged_ you to spare my life? But...but why? We were always so different and he hated me."Voldemort shrugged.

"Damned if I know. Anyways, I've been thinking about what he said. Lily, you are a very talented witch. Your power is strong, and it should be put to good use. Join me, Lily, and become great. Join my forces, and you will rule beside me as my equal in power. Just step aside, and let me kill the boy. A small price to pay for eternal glory, don't you think?" The Dark Lord was becoming impatient, and his gaze kept shifting to the boy in the crib, who was staring at him with large, green eyes. Eyes like his mother.

Lily sneered. How could this murderer, this disgrace to Wizarding kind, ask her to join him after destroying those who she loved? "Not for all the magic in the world!" she shouted, eyes tearing up again. _I'm sorry, Harry_, she thought, closing her eyes, bracing herself for death. _I'm so sorry... _

A blinding flash of neon green light filled the room, accompanied by Lily's scream and Harry's crying.

Back in London, in an uncharted house known as Number 12 Grimuald Place, a young, greasy –haired man sat at the wood kitchen table, sipping a steaming mug of Earl Grey tea, two cream no sugar. A red-haired, plump woman sat across from him, watching him drink.

"Look, Severus," she said sympathetically. "I know how you feel. Poor Bill and Charlie caught the Flu at around this time when they were young. Just relax and get plenty of sleep, okay dear?" Severus Snape nodded.

"I will, thanks Mo-"Snape felt a strong jab of pain in the vicinity of his heart and clutched his chest, gasping for air. This feeling, this _pain, _had appeared out of nowhere, with no apparent cause at all. What was it? Severus's eyes widened in realization. He set down his half-finished cup of tea and bolted for the coat rack next to the door. "Molly," he said over his shoulder to the plump redhead. "I have to go. I just remembered I had to meet my brother tonight at the Leaky cauldron. I'll be back in a few hours!" With that, he grabbed his long black cloak and hurried out the door, leaving Molly Weasley staring after him dumbfounded.

"But Severus doesn't have any living family..."


	7. TheBoyWhoLived

Godric's Hollow – 10/31/81 

Severus Snape hurried down the streets of London, trying to get to a good apparition spot as fast as he could. He had to get to the Potter residence, and fast. He knew what the pain he felt back at the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters was; it was the pain of loss.

"Lily, "he whispered, his eyes wide in terror. "God, please let her be alright!" He rounded a corner into a deserted alley and turned on his heel, apparating away in the blink of an eye,

Voldemort casually stepped over Lily's corpse, making his way to Harry's crib. The young heir to the Potter line looked at the dark wizard, a mixture of fright and hate in his emerald eyes.

"Voldemort," Harry said, it was the fifth word he had learned. The baby didn't know how he knew the name; Mommy or Daddy hadn't said it. Either way, baby Harry's voice was filled with wary disgust as his parent's killer approached him. The Dark Lord smirked evilly, the flames of Hell burning in his red, snake-like eyes.

"Indeed, Potter. Now your Mommy and Daddy can't save you, you have nowhere to go! It's time to face your fate, Harry Potter! Prepare to meet your demise!" Voldemort raised his bone-handled wand, pointing it directly at Harry's forehead, just above his right eye. "_Avada Kedavra!" _ The neon green spell hit the baby right in the head, but, for some reason, the curse rebounded, sending the blinding green back at the caster.

"No! This is impossible! NO!!" The killing curse hit Voldemort at full blast, knocking the greatest Dark Wizard of al time backwards, dead. Harry wailed in fright as the Dark Lord hit the wall, causing the whole of the Potter house to shake. Pieces of the ceiling began to fall, the wall cracked, parts of the floor began to cave in, and the paddle fan in the parlor fell from the ceiling, landing on the glass-topped coffee table with a deafening smash.

Harry let out another scream as a chunk of drywall from the ceiling fell onto his crib, breaking on the wooden frame. In the midst of the chaos and destruction, the young and only Potter fell asleep.

At the Roger's house, everyone had gathered outside, parents hugging their children close to them. The flames were dying down, the cracking of timber the only sound in they could hear. Over the fire, the falling apart of the Potter house was barely white noise.

Lucius Malfoy watched the chaos from afar, his eyes narrowed, letting the image of the fire burn itself into his memory forever. He saw the third light of the Avada Kedavra from the Potter house, but couldn't bring himself to watch it fall to the ground. The Dark Lord had accomplished the task. He would be walking away from the ruins any minute now. He just _had to!_

Malfoy turned his gaze away from the inferno to look at the destroyed two-story white house. There was no sign of life, no movement, no talking, nothing. There was a soft_ pop _from somewhere behind him. Turning around, he was met with, instead of a triumphant look from his Lord, a hard blow to the face, breaking his nose.

"_You let him kill her!"_ Severus Snape shouted, tears of rage in his eyes. He watched Lucius grab his bloody nose.

"Lut who kel who?" Malfoy asked, his eyes wide, speech slightly off thanks to his brand-new injury. "Sheveruth, vuht are you talkeng about?" Snape growled and grabbed Lucius by the collar of his cloak and picked him up, slamming Malfoy's back against a tree.

"You know what I mean! Voldemort killed her, and you didn't stop him!!" Snape yelled, his face inches from Malfoy's frightened one. "You let him kill Lily!" Lucius smirked, still holding his nose. He realized what was going on.

"Oh ho!" Malfoy said, his voice taunting. "You're in luhv with a Mudblood. How sweet; Ickwle Sheveruth in love! I never thowt I'd thee the day! Yew've gawt thum nerve!"

"_Shut up!"_

Snape dealt another blow at Lucius Malfoy, this time getting him right between the eyes. "You don't, you _can't,_ understand! A Death Eater knows no love!" Lucius smirked again and Severus covered his mouth, realizing what he just said.

"'A Deth Eter knows no luhv', ehh? Whell, Shnayp, lehme tell yew sumthin'. I have a shun at howm, and I luhv heem to deth. Vhat abot yew? Yew shay yew luhv Lely, buht do yew reely?

"Of course I do!"

"Then vie weren't yew here earlier to save her yoreself?"

Snape bit his lower lip and glared at Lucius. "Leave, Malfoy. Go home to your son and Narcissa." Lucius nodded, still holding his bloody nose. Severus didn't have time enough to blink before Malfoy was gone; from sight, but not in mind. Severus quickly descended down to the ruins of what was once the happy Potter home.

Sirius Black ran through number 12 Grimuald Place frantically. "Guys, I need to go! I'll be back in a few hours!"

"And where do you think you're going at 10:30 at night, Sirius Black!" Mrs. Weasley demanded, standing in front of the black back door.

"Molly," Sirius said, taking a deep breath. "I've never gone against your word, but I need to go!" He edged his way around her and bolted out of the house. From inside, Remus Lupin heard his long-time friend frantically heading towards the shed, where his '79 black and chrome flying Harley Davidson sat, waiting until its next use. He climbed off the padded window seat where he read by the pale light of a waxing crescent moon, setting his script of _Macbeth _down on the closest end table and walked down the hallway to the back door. "Molly, don't worry, I'll go with him in case you're worried about if her gets hurt."

"No, Remus, stay here, I'll be back real quick, I promise," Sirius called over his shoulder, pushing the motorcycle out into the small-fenced in area that was the backyard. "You just stay here and hold the fort down. Keep Mum under control."

"But why would she wak-"Molly's fretful question was interrupted by the roar of the Harley's engine, followed by deafening screeches from inside. "Mudbloods! Blood traitors! Half-breeds! My old house has been disgraced! If I were still alive..." Remus had run back into the house to silence the portrait of Mrs. Black. Before he could return, Sirius had flown off into the inky black night. From inside, a grandfather clock chimed once, twice- the gong stopped ringing, it was two o'clock in the morning of November the First.

As the fire smoldered down until only a few small pieces of wood were glowing with heat, the once happy families had turned their attention to the destroyed Potter home.

"Who could have done this?" Mr. Smith, a local banker, asked as her looked over the pile of debris that was once just another house on the street where the children trick-or-treated at only a few hours earlier. "Was the foundation unstable?"  
"No, if it was, then the ground would be disturbed. Maybe they had termites and the structure just became too unstable," one woman said from the crowd. Mummers of agreement arose amongst them. Severus Snape found himself on the edge of the curious crowd. He looked in disdain at one of the Muggle children, mentally wondering why he had come here.

Oh, yeah, Lily, that's right.

"Madam," Severus said in a Russian accent and got the attention of a young woman, looking to be in her early twenties with long, blonde hair. "I...Is this the Potter home?"

The woman looked taken aback and blushed. "Umm, indeed it is, sir. Did you know Lily or James?"

"Lily is my sister," Snape lied. "My name is Persev Nasus." He bowed slightly, kissing the Muggle woman's hand. _Oh god, he thought_, mentally grimacing. _I am going to wash my mouth with three bars of soap tomorrow morning_. "Do you know what happened?"

"No one knows," the woman said. "And please, call me Heather. This happened just tonight, while we were all distracted by the fire at Jessica's house. Some think the foundation crumbled, others say the frame might have been termite ridden and that's what made it collapse. I personally think a Crumple-horned Snorklak might have been inside and got angry. But that would be odd because Crumple-horned Snorklaks are a relatively docile species. But, of course, they do tend to attack when provoked..."

Snape could barely take it anymore. He knew this Snorklak spiel from back at Hogwarts. Joseph Lovegood used to talk about them all the time. _Note to self: for kissing the hand of a Snorklak lover, wash mouth with five bars of soap._ He kindly excused himself before pushing through the crowd, heading towards the ruinous house.

"Lily!" he called out, searching through the rubble. He moved a board to the left and saw a hand. "Oh gods..." Clearing the rubble around the hand, he followed the corpse's arm. As he reached the face, Severus let out a sigh of relief as he saw the broken glasses. It was only James. Taking care not to disturb James's dead body, he began to search some more. Almost a hundred or so feet away, a bare, pale foot stuck out from behind a piece of what was once a cradle.

"Lily!" Snape cried out, eyes wide in fear, tossing the boards away. "Please, be alive. Please!" Tears streamed down pale face as he hugged Lily's lifeless form. "No. Lily, wake up! Wake up!" his sobs grew loud enough to be audible from a short distance away. Severus's crying was joined by a wailing, as if... No... It couldn't be...

Harry Potter crawled out from the debris, clutching his mother's cold, dead hand, seeking the comfort he needed during this time of distress. "Mama! Mama wake up! Mama!"

"Oh dear god, Harry!" Snape said, in the middle of his sobs, picking up the baby and hugging him, faintly relived. "You're alive! Oh gods, you're alive!" Severus gulped back tears, and saw the scar on the baby boy's forehead. "And she isn't."

Sirius Black's motorcycle drove up behind the crowd and, ignoring the protests of the horrendous noise that it made, ran to the rubble. "Snape," he muttered, as he approached the familiar black-cloaked figure. "I thought you were at the Leaky cauldron. Visiting that brother you don't have."

"You don't have one anymore, either," Snape pointed out, standing up, letting Lily's limp corpse roll off of his lap, cradling Baby Harry in his arms. "Black, James and Lily... they didn't make it." Sirius shook his head in disbelief.

"No, they couldn't have. Not James, Not Lils..."His voice faded away, as he looked warily at the ground. Harry had been oddly quiet, for, amidst the horrible epilogue of his parent's demise, he had fallen asleep. Severus hugged baby Harry closer for a split second before turning and walking towards the road, following the heart-broken Sirius. Whispers from amongst the crowd reached his ears, but they were all meaningless as the horrible truth repeated itself over and over in his head.

_Lily Potter is dead... Lily Potter is dead... Lily Potter...dead...dead...dead..._

Snape shook his head to try and clear his mind, but it was in vain, for the words repeated themselves over and over in his subconscious, as if on a broken record. Murmurings spread throughout the crowd, hushed at first, but they eventually began to sound as bees do, a buzz of voices. Sirius placed the black helmet on his head and climbed onto the front seat. After all, he was the one who knew how to drive. Severus sat on the back seat, holding the infant close.

Black turned the key in the ignition and the engine revved to life, startling the crowd slightly, but the slowly spreading gossip ands suspicions were not silence for a second. The Harley sped down the road, making sure it was a fair distance away from the small cul-de-sac before taking flight, rising into the night's sky.

Sirius didn't look at Snape. "You do know what this means, right Severus?" he asked, staring dead ahead. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead. The Order's gonna disband. James and Lily are dead, and someone inside the Order betrayed them. And I think I know who." Snape didn't' respond. Instead, he hung his head in a half hour of silence; it was more than enough to honor James and Lily.

An hour had passed before Sirius Black and Severus Snape returned to the Order. Upon arrival, Snape immediately dismounted and headed inside, up the stairs, and to a spare room. They had told Molly, via the two-way mirrors, that they were bringing Harry, and so the room was set up with an old cradle that, considering the Black family Crest on the headboard, must have been held up in the attic awaiting the next heir to the long, evil, inbred wizarding family.

Setting the small, sleeping baby down in the cradle, he held back the urge to strangle the sleeping infant. Yet, in a way, he felt almost as though he never wanted anyone to harm this baby, Harry Potter, ever.

"You survived," Severus said. His voice was barely a whisper. "And she's dead. You hear that, Potter? Your mother is dead! Lily Evans Potter is dead, and it's your fault!" Severus's eyes, full of tears, were glaring at

The bundle that lay below him in the cradle whimpered softly before rolling over and grabbing a hold of Snape's robe, gripping it tightly in his miniature hand. Snape's eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly remembered that he wasn't the only one who had lost something when Voldemort attacked the Potter House. Gently reaching down, he released his robe from the tiny hand. Looking one last time at the face of the child who would change the Wizarding world they knew it, The-Boy-Who-Lived; Severus Snape quietly left the room.


End file.
